Pompas de jabón

Daughter of my neighborhood, daddy, doll,
why are you out driving with a rich guy,
why did you cut your hair as it's in fashion,
and dyed it champagne color.
That in the high society parties,
you dance showing off your party dresses,
and that to impress the tango dancers,
when leaving with your 'camba', you wave 'allón'.

Today your few springs
make you dream about life
and in the perverted circle
of the nocturnal revelry,
think about aristocracies
and you waste your youthful years...
Poor girl, who among fools,
you feel like Mimí Pinsón...!

Think, poor girl, daddy, doll,
that your beauty will one day fade away,
and like all flowers that wither,
your crazy illusions will die.
The 'mishé' who spoils you with his money,
will get bored one day
and then like many mud flowers,
you'll go begging in the streets...

You succeed because you're just
an embryo of tired flesh
and because your laughter
is a sweet modulation.
When relentless, the years,
inject you with their bitterness...
you'll see that your follies
were just soap bubbles